


Old Foe, New Flames

by starvonnie



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:36:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvonnie/pseuds/starvonnie
Summary: Hot Rod, after returning to a restored Cybertron, stumbles upon Megatron while out racing in the wastelands.





	

"You killed my planet!" Hot Rod snarled.  "You killed Nyon!  My people!  You--"  His angry words were lost to his ragged vents as he pounded into Megatron harder.  And, oh, he was loving it.  Every moment spent in his hot, wet valve was glorious.  But this was Megatron.  He should be repulsed just by being near him.

This wasn't even the first time this had happened.  In fact, it had become somewhat of a routine to them.  It was never planned; an inconsistent routine.  But a routine nonetheless. 

Whenever Hot Rod found the time, he would drive out into the wilderness.  Out towards the cave where he had stumbled upon him so many months ago.  Hiding from everyone like the coward he was.  They wouldn't say anything to each other.  They would just start feeling each other up.  Tangling up in a hot mess of limbs until Megatron wound up on his back with Hot Rod over him.  Only once his spike was inside of him did his voicebox activate.  Spewing any number of insults and profanities at him.  Anything to make himself feel better about what he was doing.

"I hate you!  Cybertron would be better off without you!"  Hot Rod slammed Megatron's hand back down to the cave floor when he tried to lift it.  "Don't touch me!  You sicken me!"  He spat in his face.  Something that would have had him killed during the war, but Megatron just lay there and let it happen. 

It just made Hot Rod more furious to see him... well, not calm.  Megatron's face showed that he was clearly present for the frag, but it was like he was going to let Hot Rod do whatever he wanted to him.  It brought out a side of Hot Rod that he would have preferred to have left buried.

Hot Rod dug his claws into Megatron's thighs, feeling the warm ooze of energon around his fingertips.  He adored the way he winced, and again when his last hard thrust slammed the ex-warlord's helm into the cave wall.  It sent a shower of dust down over them, making Hot Rod feel as dirty outside as he did on the inside.

By now Hot Rod had practically folded Megatron in half.  It was only at this angle was he able to reach his ceiling nodes.  Watch him squirm in pain and ecstasy.  He was close.  Hot Rod, too.  It would all be over soon.

"I hope you die out here," Hot Rod said just above his ventilations.  His face was close to Megatron's now, but they didn't kiss.  They never kissed.  It was an unsaid boundary.  "I hope you bleed out or shut down and rust away to nothing.  All alone.  And I hope no one even cares to remember you.  I hope they wipe you out of history."

Just as he finished saying that, Hot Rod overloaded.  Right when he saw Megatron's face twist into true agony.  An agony that couldn't possibly be from the minor wounds he'd inflicted.  It left a bitter taste on his glossa and tarnished his overload.

Hot Rod pulled out before his spike had finished depositing the last bit of dribbling transfluids inside of Megatron.  They dripped down his shaft and onto his pelvic plating.

Megatron keened quietly.  He was left on the brink; hot and unfulfilled.   

After his spike depressurized, Hot Rod knew he should leave.  He didn't care about Megatron and he definitely didn't care if he overloaded or not.  But he was never one to leave a partner unsatisfied, and he wasn't about to start.  Even if it was Megatron.

Sitting down between his legs, Hot Rod shoved three fingers inside of him.  That still left plenty of room.  Especially after his spike had loosened up his calipers.  He didn't bother putting a fourth in, though, because after a few pumps in and out, Megatron gave a soft moan as his overload took him, too.

Hot Rod didn't know what to do now to clean up, so he just wiped his fingers beside the bit of transfluid and decided to leave that to future Hot Rod.  He was always the most sensible of the lot.  Especially right after returning from one of these visits.

He stood and walked toward the cave entrance, but stopped just before actually leaving it.  Sitting down on the little ledge, he leaned against the wall.  He heard Megatron get up, too, but he didn't look back at him.  Heard the shift of plating as his modesty panel slid back into place.  Heard his steps as he walked over to the same place he would always sit afterwards.  Not so close as to be able to touch Hot Rod, but not so far away that he couldn't easily change that.

It was weird.  Of all the mechs that Hot Rod had interfaced with, and his list was much shorter than he let on, they had always wanted to cuddle afterwards.  He wanted to, too.  And that urge didn't change just because it was Megatron.  He would just sit there and fight it until he got the strength to leave.

"Something is on your processor," Megatron said, his voice little more than a growl.

"What do you care?" Hot Rod shot back, foolishly looking at him.  He caught Megatron's optic, and held it for far longer than was proper.  His face flushed.

"I wasn't saying I did," Megatron told him.  "Just making an observation."

"Well... stop it."  Hot Rod crossed his arms.

"Whatever you say, little one."

Hot Rod _did not_ like the smirk in his tone.  "Don't call me that."

Megatron shrugged his massive shoulders.  Sometimes Hot Rod forgot how big he truly was.  Really, it wouldn't take much for him to hurt him.  He hadn't seen his spike yet but he could only imagine it was about the size of his forearm.  He could have hurt him.  Multiple times.  In a countless number of ways.  But he hadn't.  Why hadn't he?

"Why haven't you hurt me?" Hot Rod asked aloud.

"You're here to hurt me," Megatron answered, as if it was obvious.  "If I hurt you, that would only lead to more punishment."

"It's not like anyone sent me!"

"Don't you think I deserve this punishment?" Megatron asked him.

"Of course you do!  But..."  Hot Rod hugged his knees to his chest.  "Is this really punishment?  I mean, why am I even here?"  He hid his face.  "Shouldn't I have, like, reported you to somebody?"  He knew at the very least that he shouldn't be bringing him rations, but he found himself unable to sleep at night knowing that someone was getting by on little more than scraps.  And it wasn't like there was an energon crisis anymore.

He was more or less asking himself that question out loud, but Megatron still answered him.  "Perhaps.  Or perhaps you enjoy my company more than you care to admit."

Those words made the flames on his paint feel like they were actually burning, though the fire quelled quickly.

"I believed in you, you know," Hot Rod murmured.  "All those centuries ago.  Back before the rift."

"And yet you wear an Autobot symbol proudly on your chest."

Hot Rod stood suddenly.  "Because you showed your true colours!"  Hot Rod clenched his fists, glaring down the mech who should be his number one enemy.  Megatron did not look up at him.  "You just wanted power for yourself.  You couldn't have cared less what the rest of us had!  I'm _glad_ I became an Autobot!  You would have left me for dead on some battlefield if I had joined you!"

"Then perhaps you need to grow stronger," Megatron said.  The fact that he didn't seem the least bit bothered by anything he had to stay just made him burn more.

"Shut up!  I don't want to talk to you!"  But Hot Rod hunkered back down in the cave with no intentions of leaving.  It always took him hours to leave.  He couldn't understand _why_.  And his excuses for his absence were becoming harder and harder to conjure up.

Then Megatron sighed.  Just a short one.  It sounded sad.  "Nothing's changed, has it?"

Hot Rod felt sparks stinging his optics.  They were flickering.  "No."

"And you?  You're no better off?"

"I mean... I have a job, which is more than most can say, but that was only because I made friends during the war that had the connections.  I'm sure they would have stuck me back in the same place if Nyon still existed...  No one's exactly rushing to get that city rebuilt."

"Well then.  Perhaps the war wasn't a total waste." 

Hot Rod thought he heard Megatron give a little sigh of relief. 

"And I see you clearly got what you wanted," Hot Rod said bitterly.  "You got out of the mines, sure, but for what?  Just to end up in an abandoned one?  Where you're relying upon some idiot who doesn't even know what he's doing?"

"I don't think you're an idiot," Megatron said.

"Yeah, well, _you_ wouldn't."

"I meant that objectively speaking."  Megatron shifted so he was leaning back on his hands.  He'd never seen him look so casual.  "You have a big spark, Hot Rod.  I see a lot of my younger self in you.  You see someone who is suffering, and you help them as best you can."  When he turned his optics on him, this time Hot Rod didn't shy away from the red intensity.  He met them head-on, trying to keep up his glare.  But... it was hard.  There was no hostility in Megatron's optics.  "I'm glad that I made the mistakes that I did.  That way you won't tread down the same path."  He gave a little laugh.  "Maybe you'll even make a difference.  A good difference."

"What can I do?"  Hot Rod spat the words.  He had been no one before the war and he was just as invisible now.

Another chuckle from Megatron.  "You have no idea how many times I asked myself that."

"I'm not you!"

Megatron looked at him levelly.

"Look, I just... everything is confusing.  I don't know what to believe anymore.  Cybertron's changed, I guess, but not very much.  Everyone who's returned was scanned and forced to work what best suited their alt mode.  Unless you got lucky, like me.  And at first, I guess it made sense?  There was so much to do.  So much rebuilding.  Hell, if they were a construction worker before they were treated like royalty for the first time.  Everyone wanted to be building something.  There's still so much left to rebuild, but to build more is a luxury.  Not everyone came back and, well, with the war our population took a hefty toll.  So now it's basically back to how it was.  Four thousand years, so many deaths--"

"For nothing."  Megatron growled those two words.  He sounded more like the old Megatron then.  The snarl on his face actually scared Hot Rod a little.  He scooted away a little.

"I believed in you," Hot Rod repeated.  "I really did."  Sad optics fell to the floor.  Then they sidled over to glance at Megatron.  He'd calmed down.  That, or he'd fallen into the same resignation Hot Rod had.  "Do you regret anything?"

Megatron sighed.  "I try not to," he said, surprisingly truthful.  "I fear I have more to regret than most.  Regretting might very well kill me.  I doubt I have many years left."

This wasn't Megatron.  This was a sad, old, defeated mech.

Hot Rod really didn't want to think about why he was doing what he was doing.  There were a plethora of reasons telling him why this was a bad idea.  But that one shining one.  The one that filled his spark with hope.  The same reason that Optimus told them was why they fought.  That was what drew Hot Rod to Megatron.

He went slowly.  Testing the waters.  After all, these were waters he'd been told were Sharkticon-infested, and would sooner pull you into the undertow than lead you to land.  But as he sidled over to him, all he caught was his optic, watching him.  Giving nothing away.

There wasn't much space now.  No more than perhaps a fingers-width between their hands.  It was ultimately Hot Rod who closed that gap, laying his hand over Megatron's much larger, rust-covered one.  He felt surprisingly warm.

"I wonder what Cybertron would be like if you stayed," Hot Rod admitted.

Megatron didn't say anything. 

"You and I both know Optimus would have welcomed you."

"To the Autobots."  Megatron spat the word.

"There are plenty of neutrals now."  Hot Rod squeezed his hand.  Like he was reassuring a trembling sparkling.  "I'm not saying it would have been easy, but... we needed your voice, Megatron.  I'm starting to think we need it again."

"No."

"Yeah, I... figured you'd say that."  Hot Rod gave a half-sparked chuckle.  Then, scooting even closer.  "Can I ask you something?"

"I think you will regardless of what I say."

Hot Rod just looked at him, and Megatron looked back.  Those red optics.  Hot Rod never thought he would have seen them this close.  At least, not if he still expected to live.  This question might accomplish that.

"Why do you keep letting me come back?  Why haven't you killed me yet?  Like, what is one more death?"  Hot Rod lifted his hand when Megatron moved his, but replaced it when he saw that Megatron had just turned his palm-up. 

Megatron gripped his hand.  Hard.  Just to the threshold of pain.

"Are you saying you want to die?"

Hot Rod swallowed.  "No."

Megatron turned his helm forward.  "I spent years out here.  Alone.  I kept telling myself to just give up.  There was nothing left for me here.  But the tank will protest.  My frame stubbornly tries to keep me alive.  Eventually it feels like it takes over.  I will search for energon scraps, and I will find them.  There are always more.  Then one day I see another face.  I remember what company feels like."  Megatron's shoulders sagged.  "You are like energon scraps.  You keep coming back.  You keep me alive."

Hot Rod just looked at their combined hands.  Somehow he was able to focus on more than just the fact that he was holding hands with _Megatron_.  "So what you're saying is I could be anybody?"

"On the contrary."  Megatron turned suddenly, his free hand coming down on Hot Rod's other side.  _Towering_ over him, even though they were both on the floor.  "You didn't turn me in.  You gave me the opportunity to know you.  And I find your company pleasurable."  He backed off again, releasing Hot Rod's hand.  "In another time, I would claim you.  But I have no right.  I am just glad that my futile efforts at the very least helped you.  Perhaps you will succeed where Optimus did not."

"I'm not Optimus."  Hot Rod flopped his helm down onto Megatron's lap.  Enjoying how startled the old mech looked.  And he felt thoroughly comforted to do so.  "I'm not you, either.  I'm just me."

Cautiously, Megatron let his hand come to rest on Hot Rod's waist.  "You are you, and what I see is someone with potential.  You could do Cybertron a lot of good if you tried.  And I know you wouldn't take the same path I would.  You would forge your own.  Be a true leader.  I'm a little envious of you, if I'm honest."

Hot Rod scoffed.  "I'm not someone to be envied."

"You still have your whole life ahead of you," Megatron pointed out.  "I would love a blank slate."

Hot Rod sighed and snuggled closer to Megatron, pulling his legs up to his chest.  He felt strangely comforted.  Maybe it had just been too long since he'd been touched.  "I can't change anything.  I don't even know where I would _start_."

"I started with riots," Megatron said, "but we both know how that would turn out."  He chuckled.

Hot Rod laughed, too.  And then he laughed some more when he realized he was sharing a laugh with _Megatron_.  Between snorts, he saw Megatron looking... scared?  Confused?  He was kind of hard to read.

"Sorry," Hot Rod apologized.  "This is just so surreal."

Then Megatron... _smiled_ at him?

"Indeed it is," Megatron agreed.

"So... you like my company, huh?" Hot Rod smirked up at him, and was more than a little surprised to see a hint of a blush on Megatron's cheeks.  Though maybe that was just from the glow of his optics. 

"Sit up," Megatron ordered.  Well, just about everything he said sounded like an order.  Before this, he'd usually only heard him barking orders at his soldiers.

Hot Rod obeyed, wondering if laying on him had been a good idea at all.  Common sense pointed to _of course not_.  His spark?  Not so much.

"Do you... enjoy my company?" Megatron asked quietly.

Hot Rod's optics dropped to Megatron's lips.  Just for a moment.  "I do."

Megatron started to lean in.  Slowly.  "Tell me to stop," he whispered.

Hot Rod shook his helm just a little.  He was stretching up to meet him.  Knowing full well that this was a bad idea and that, at best, it would end in sparkbreak.  Oh, well.  Cybertron was boring.

They both hesitated just a moment before their lips touched, ventilations quietly hitching.  Hot Rod didn't know if he closed the gap or if Megatron did, but what he did know was that he was kissing him.  Ex-leader of the Decepticons.  The scourge of Cybertron.  An outcast.  Megatron.  He was letting him put his hands on his waist.  Letting him pull him onto his lap.  Feeling just the tips of those once razor-sharp denta, now dulled from all the raw energon he'd been consuming.

They pulled apart, but only for a moment.  It was like they were catching up on all of those times they hadn't kissed before.  All those missed opportunities.  And, once Hot Rod got over the lingering taste of the unrefined energon, he found himself thoroughly enjoying the experience. 

"I shouldn't be liking this," Hot Rod murmured against his lips.

Megatron smirked.  "But you do, don't you?"

Shrugging, Hot Rod said, "Guess I've just got a thing for bad boys."

Hot Rod wrapped his arms around Megatron as he dove in again and again and again.  It was only once he saw the orange light of a setting sun on the cave wall did he remember that reality was still frustratingly there.

"I... should get back," Hot Rod said. 

Megatron put his mouth to Hot Rod's neck, and he froze in anticipation.  There was still a lingering fear there.  Try as he might he couldn't forget the war story about how Megatron sharpened his denta so that he could rip the throats out of Autobots while they recharged.  And while they were duller, he'd still be able to accomplish such a feat.  But in the end, all he did was kiss at those sensitive neck cables, sending a chill up Hot Rod's spinal strut.

"I do hope that you'll allow me to ravage you," Megatron growled into his neck.

That had Hot Rod clawing at his back, though not so deep as to draw energon.  He already felt bad about what he'd done before.  Megatron didn't have much to spare.  Hot Rod would find a way to bring extra next time.  Maybe if he asked Knock Out nicely he'd give him some medicinal?  There was probably so much wrong with Megatron.  It was a wonder that years on scraps had kept him alive.

Hot Rod was playing with fire again.

He said nothing as he pulled away from Megatron, and Megatron let him go, though there was a glimmer of pain in his optics.

Hot Rod stood and walked over to the cave entrance, and the sun on his frame was nice after being on the cold cave floor.  Though not as nice as Megatron's hands.  He was sure to be feeling their ghosts for a while yet.

"You don't have to come back again, Hot Rod," Megatron said.  "I'd like to think that, in your situation, I would do the right thing and turn me in.  But, if you are anything like me, you're going to do what you want to do."  He paused, then added.  "I do hope you come back though."

Hot Rod turned back to look at him.  He saw both the defeated mech he was, and the warlord he once was.  But he also felt the kinship Megatron spoke of.  And something else.  Something he wasn't yet ready to face head-on.  He'd come to terms with it eventually, but right now he just wanted to see what this new adventure had in store for him.  And it would be an adventure, whatever the outcome.

"I'm not turning you in," he told him.  All that would do was move his cell, or else his death date. 

Megatron didn't say anything.

Hot Rod took one step out of the cave, then stopped to say one last thing over his shoulder.  "Y'know, I think Optimus was right all along."

Megatron cocked his helm.

"Maybe everyone _is_ capable of change."

**Author's Note:**

> "Maybe 'I enjoy your company' can be our 'always.''
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry not sorry


End file.
